Ultraviolence

You didnt want me all the time

8th February

Amelia

Click

Cautiously, I backed away from the door when I could hear the key turn softly in the lock. I was crouching in front of the lone bed in the empty room, my back against the solid wood. my hands at my sides, gripping the floor in anticipation. I waited, my mind hurt as a billion thoughts passed through it, I couldn't settle on a single one. He was coming, like he did all the time. Like he did almost everyday. But for some reason this time felt different.

The door flew open, the metallic, gold handle coming in contact with the white wall. It slid straight into a crevice that was created long ago, after many sudden entrances and bad memories that followed. I looked at him, he was scared. At least I thought he was, one could hardly believe a monster could show any emotion, let alone fear. A crazed, angered stature possessed his body like a demon. His breathing was going faster than his pupils, darting across the room, scanning all corners. Then, his eyes settled on mine, sweat dripping from his crimson forehead.

"Get up." He demanded, pointing a shaky finger at me, "We need to leave."

Nervously, I did as he said, my stomach clawed from inside me. I dug my nails into my palm as I stood up, everything hurt. I looked down at my once pure, white nightgown, it was now stained a slight yellow colour. It smelled of death and rot, I was a decaying body and this was my funeral attire. I could feel a disturbed hand slowly wrap around mine as I stood, shaking next to him.
His pain radiated off of him, emitting a strong unease in my mind. I had to run. I had to escape. I had to survive.

Instinctively, his body felt like ice, a cold chill where he touched. We walked along the endless hallways, antiques and photographs stared at me. I hadn't figured out who they were, or why they were here, I guess I'll never know now.

I'll never know who the elderly couple in the black and white photo was, inside of some wooden office. I'll never know the woman with the circular, thin rimmed glasses and the little boy beside her in overalls.

Tragically, I'll also never know what happened to Nina and Rose, the only people who I cared about, the only people who cared about me. The thought made me tremble, my knees shaking as I navigated the endless hallways. will they ever know what happened to me?

We came up to a white door where Ezequiel slipped in a small silver key into the keyhole. They jingled lightly in his hand, like a wind chime as a storm approaches. And I could tell, with every moments hesitation before he opened the door, was every second closer to the fabled storm. For he was truly the lightning, the hurricane and the tsunami waiting to tear down all I had spent my time building in life. My friends, my lover, all victims of the storm.

Blindingly, the moon beamed in from the curtains as I stood on the balcony one final time, with Ezequiel next to me.

The stars in the sky were as tired as I was, they barely shone through the thin veil of clouds that blanketed the sky overhead. A small glimmer of light blue could still be seen resting above the horizon. The sunset would have been beautiful, like a giant citrine floating in a beautiful, deep blue water. Now all I saw was darkness and the artificial light of the moon.

Suddenly, Ezequiel grabbed my arm tight and forced me to look at him. His breath felt desperate in its speed, fast and panic inducing. My arm stung as he held it as if he was so cold that I could freeze just from his touch.